“Okay, Charlie. Let me make this as clear as possible. I really like you, and I know we’ve only been living together for a few weeks, but I feel like we could be pretty good friends, so I want to put this out there now.” She takes a deep breath. “Jeremy sleeps with… everyone. No repeats, just a good time until it’s not.”
My mouth drops open and the Davenport in me reaches to clutch the nonexistent pearls around my neck at her boldness.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I think anyone who goes after him is making a mistake. He’s a good man and a wonderful brother, but would make ahorribleboyfriend.”
My mouth gapes wider, and I gasp a little. “I mean, I don’t even…”
RJ lifts an eyebrow, and being the queen of eyebrow lifting, I know this particular look. It’s herI call bullshitlook.
And then I can’t hold it in any longer.
“Okay, first of all, how could you not tell me your brother looks likethat!?”I say, gesturing to the closed door with both arms in dramatic fashion.“He is the mostgorgeousman I’ve everseen! Did you see his abs? And his arms? Oh my god, and hiseyes.Talk about swoon!”
She makes a gagging face again. “Jer is known around campus for all of those things and then some. I’ve told you this already. He’s like campus royalty or something. It’s really annoying.” She waves her hand in a way that says it’s all hogwash to her.
I clasp my hands together. “TheJeremy Jameson. I feel like I need to share this with someone but you’re the only person I share things with.”
RJ rolls her eyes. “Well, tough. Consider him a topic we just don’t talk about. There’s politics, religion, and Jeremy.”
I laugh as I grab my towel and shower caddie. “But we’ve talked about politics and religion, weirdo.” RJ smiles at me as I slip my feet into flip-flops. “I’m gonna get in a shower while everyone’s still at Thirsty Thursdays,” I say, walking towards the door.
“You’re the weirdo, lusting after my gross brother,” she says, then shouts out, “And think about what I said!” as the door closes behind me.
Technically, I head in the direction of the communal showers our floor shares. Quite the adjustment, those communal showers, when you’ve had a house large enough to never have to share a bathroom. But, also in the direction of the bathroom is the tiny lounge near the stairs. If Jeremy isn’t there, I’ll shrug it off and take a long hot shower. But if he is…
I peek my head through the lounge door, and a smile creeps onto my face when I see him sitting on one of the red couches, scrolling through his phone.
I clear my throat and lean against the doorway, giving him a flirty smile when his eyes connect with mine.
“You lost, pretty girl?” He says with a wolfish grin, pushing up off the couch and walking towards me, tucking his phone into his front pocket.
I shrug.
“Need me to help you with anything?”
I shrug again, trying to restrain my smile and failing miserably.
And then he’s standing in front of me, so close. Toe to toe, breath to breath.
Jeremy lifts his hand and lightly touches my arm, tracing a pattern down until he reaches my hand, then flirts his fingers with mine. Normally, guys giving me attention provides a little ego boost and nothing more. But this light-touching thing has my pulse racing and my temperature increasing rapidly. I can feel the blood rushing to my chest and neck, surely causing my skin to flush red. Traitorous Irish heritage.
“Look at that blush,” he says in a low tone, barely more than a whisper. “Tell me, pretty girl, how far down does that blush spread?”
I’m certain that my skin has turned beat red, but I’m also shockingly woozy and my breathing turns hard as he leans forward slowly, until his face hovers just at the space where my neck meets my shoulder. My eyes drop closed and I just try to memorize the feel of him so close to me like this.
“Let me take you out, Charlotte. I bet we’ll have a really good time,” he says, his breath scattering goose bumps along my collarbone.
I barely manage to nod and utter anuh huhbefore he’s taking a step back. When I open my eyes, he’s standing there, looking slightly off-kilter, and I think I see something deeper than lust in his eyes. But then he’s back to the smirking, and he hands his phone over for me to enter my number. After I’ve punched it in, he fiddles around with it.
“I just called you. So now you’ll know who it is when I text you.”
I smile. “So when is this happening?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Really? You’re not gonna ask if I have plans?”
He reaches for my hand and lays a light kiss on the inside of my wrist, which feels at odds with the way he’s staring at me, his gaze smoldering. “Do I sound like a dick if I say you’ll cancel them if you have plans tomorrow?”
